


On the Clock

by Raven (Temaris)



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: 2008, M/M, Magnificent Seven AU: ATF, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:37:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Temaris/pseuds/Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vin's paperwork vs JD's plans for a long weekend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Clock

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt from moonlettuce and posted to get in reasonably close to Day 7. Beta read by the lovely aithine :-)

"You said just half an hour more, Vin."

Vin didn't look up from the recertification paperwork on his desk. "You want us both to still have a job next week?"

"Mr. Larabee wouldn't--"

"Chris wouldn't. Agent Larabee? Has already got Travis and personnel breathing down his throat." He frowned and scanned through the last few charts of Ezra's scores. "If Ez don't get himself certified on something bigger'n a pea shooter, there's going to be trouble."

"But that's Ezra's trouble, not *yours*," JD urged. Vin glanced up at him. JD was in jeans and t-shirt, ball cap dragged down over his eyes so all Vin could see was the sulky chin. "We could be halfway to the cabin by now."

"No point hurrying me," Vin said mildly, and signed off on Ezra's forms with a flourish. He added it to the envelope for countersignature and shuffled through to the next lot. Josiah. Who favored large and messy over pinpoint and prissy. He scrubbed a hand through his hair and grumbled softly, "Like I volunteered for this." He looked back at JD, who was swinging to and fro in his desk chair. "You think I wanted to get stuck here on a three day weekend?"

"No," JD said dubiously. "But you volunteered for the program, and the deadline was posted a month ago." He pushed off from his desk and the chair rolled neatly to Vin's and he leaned forwards, elbows on Vin's desk, chin on his hands. "So, you know..."

"You want to get some when we're done here, or you want I just go home?"

"Come on, Vin."

Vin looked hard at him. "If you boys had all gotten the paperwork to me when I asked --"

"You know how much I hate paperwork," JD said, and Vin shrugged, going back to Josiah's charts. Oddly enough, though the range of results was unpredictable, they were well within parameters, and he signed off with some relief, adding it to the envelope.

"Like *I* like it?"

"You ain't paying much attention to anything else."

"Sooner I'm done, sooner I can fuck that pretty ass of yours," Vin said easily, and grinned at Nathan's charts at the audible gulp from JD.

"Okay, okay. Fine." JD pushed back to his own desk and for a whole three minutes there was peace, perfect peace.

He'd just about gotten to the point of wondering if Nathan actually *wanted* to be certified on the Glock or if he'd just picked it up for the first time in his life for the hell of it and told the range guys to take down the results just to screw with him, when JD started fidgeting again.

He ignored it. JD's feet tilted up past his field of vision and onto the desk, leaving him -- if he looked, which he definitely wasn't -- a clear view straight across JD's thighs and crotch.

A zipper rumbled slowly open. Followed by a soft sigh of relief. 

"That's better," JD said under his breath and Vin closed his eyes, gritted his teeth. Did *not* look up. Fine. Nathan was certified for everything *except* the Glock. Now Buck. 

Fabric rustled, he absolutely wasn't looking and somehow caught a glimpse of JD, a triangle of skin and pubes and cock -- hard, wrapped in a slow moving fist -- clearly visible, framed by his open fly, before he stared determinedly, blindly, at Buck's assessment charts. Jesus. He shifted a little, trying to get some space in his abruptly very uncomfortable jeans.

"How's Buck doing there?" JD asked, his voice lower and slower than usual, almost as though he was half asleep, except Vin knew this tone of voice, and it was usually the precursor to getting pounced on.

He swallowed. Buck. Buck. 

Fuck.

"Fine," he said reprovingly, except it kind of came out hoarse and unconvincing. He couldn't make out a word of the damn charts.

JD's hand was moving rhythmically catching the corner of Vin's eye. He closed his eyes again. Focus.

"Paperwork ain't going to -- mmm -- write itself, Vin," JD reminded him, then sighed, sounding like he was melting in place. Usually it took Vin biting very gently on that one spot on JD's inner thigh to get that sound, and Vin's dick twitched, hard. 

"You want me to send you back to the testing range?"

"You wouldn't do that, Vin," JD said with a smile. Vin couldn't disagree. For one thing, the kid was getting to be damn good. And for another, he'd rather pull his own nails out than have to tell him he'd failed something. If something went wrong he'd have to palm it off on Larabee. Who would laugh and laugh and laugh and never let him live it down.

"I might." He shuffled the papers. "Let's see what you've got here--"

"Yeah, Vin, let's see what I've got here," he said, tone laden with meaning and Vin really didn't mean to look up and then he was gone.

JD had pushed his t-shirt up high enough to scratch at his chest and torso, drawing lines that were white for a second then filled with pink a moment later, making happy little sounds as the fingernails scraped across pale, sensitive skin. His other hand was on his cock, moving quickly but not so fast he'd bring himself off in minutes. This was JD taking his time.

Their eyes met, and Vin shoved the paperwork away and JD's feet off the desk in one quick move. Then he was straddling JD's lap and leaning in. "You started without me," he said and JD shook his head.

"You were right here, Vin." He smiled up at Vin, his eyes bright and happy, entirely untroubled that Vin had just changed the game. "Nothing gets started without you," he added in a whisper, and pulled one of Vin's hands down to his dick. Vin closed his hand over JD's still moving fist and laced their fingers together. JD's eyes were on Vin's face, and Vin leaned in to kiss the uptilted face -- nose, eyelids, broad cheekbones; lick across the upper lip and bite at the lower, tugging gently until JD's mouth was open and breathless, then take his time matching his lips to the curve of JD's.

Their hands kept moving on JD, and JD's breath was coming shorter and shorter, until he pulled back a scant few millimeters, resting his forehead on Vin's. "Gonna make a mess," he mumbled between kisses.

Vin chuckled, and wrapped one arm around JD's shoulders tightly. "Go for it," he whispered back. "Next time though?"

"Yeah?" JD gasped, barely able to keep his eyes open, his hips lifting both of them despite Vin's weight.

"Next time, I come on you, and *you* have to wear a dirty shirt all weekend."

"Oh *god*!" JD gasped, arching up hard, before slumping into the chair. "Oh my god." And then, suspiciously, "Do you mean you haven't packed?"

"Figured we wouldn't be wearing much," he said with a wicked grin, and kissed JD until the muffled protests stopped, and JD's hips were shifting again. Then he sat back, carefully zipped his lover up, and bounced to his feet.

"Just another half hour," he said brightly, and settled back at his desk.


End file.
